


The Great British F*ck-Off

by bangyababy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bickering, Competition, Cooking, Humor, M/M, Muggles, Pranks, Snark, Some Fluff, brief mentions of Draco/OMC, improper use of molassess, semi-oblivious Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 18:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10366350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangyababy/pseuds/bangyababy
Summary: Ron convinces Harry to join him in a muggle cooking class. When Draco Malfoy and Gregory Goyle show up, things get a little sticky.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, big ups to my beta/rideordie Helen for dealing with me constantly overthinking/complaining/changing things while writing this. Secondly, I hope this is what you were looking for lillianlockhart when you submitted the prompt and also sorry for essentially using your prompt as the summary, haha. Lastly, I tried to keep this as angst free as humanly possible but idk if it worked and I'm sorry.

Harry set the pamphlet down and looked at Ron with slightly narrowed eyes. “You can’t be serious?” 

“Harry, listen, I know it seems crazy mate, but I really think I can do this!” Ron pleaded, opening the brochure to show Harry a picture. 

“I’m not saying you _can’t_ Ron, I’m saying do you really want to,” Harry clarified, taking the brochure back. 

“I really don’t know Harry, but it could be worth a shot,” Ron said with eyes wide. Harry sighed. 

Ever since Ron had quit the aurors six months ago, due to being on the wrong end of one too many hexes, he had been trying desperately to find a new career. The problem was, Ron loved being an auror, but he loved Hermione more. And with ababy on the way he saw the need to find a less potentially fatal profession, but with just enough excitement. Quidditch was out, on the basis of he had to travel too much, he’d tried a job within the magical creatures department, but found it was more kneazles than dragons. He’d tried his brother’s shop, but it really wasn’t the thrill he was looking for. Then suddenly, standing in his mother’s kitchen it came to him. 

“A kitchen is an exciting place, Harry,” Ron continued. “But if I want to try this I need proper training.”

“Proper _muggle_ training?” Harry asked. 

“Well, yeah, it’s not as if there are any wizarding culinary schools in England.”

“There aren’t?” 

“No, just on the continent really. And that would be a bitch of a commute.”

“I suppose it would,” Harry agreed.

“Come on Harry, please?” Ron pleaded. 

That was the other thing. Ron really wanted Harry to join him on this latest venture. He said Harry would set him more at ease in a muggle kitchen full of muggles. Besides, Harry already knew the basics, as he had to cook growing up. This way he could hone some of his skills. Harry couldn’t really argue with that logic, the hitch was he just really didn’t enjoy cooking. Perhaps it was left over trauma, or just plain disinterest, but either way Harry wasn’t keen on the idea of taking a cooking course. 

But, as Harry looked at his best friend, filled with excitement and just a touch of desperation, Harry couldn’t really say no. 

“Oh, alright Ron, you win,” Harry sighed and Ron clapped him on the back. 

“Thanks Harry!” Ron beamed. “You’re such a good mate!”

“Yeah, well I suppose, but don’t think you’re not going to pay for this.” Harry grinned. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

-

The only thing that Harry could think of when he looked at Ron was ‘I really hope he doesn’t throw up.’ In all honestly, Harry was beginning to wonder if Ron was going to be able to go through with the whole thing at all. The only time he’d seen Ron look this nervous was when he proposed to Hermione. 

“Alright, Ron?” Harry whispered. Ron visibly gulped and nodded to Harry, anxiety written in the width of his eyes and disappearance of his bottom lip. “That would be a no then,” Harry muttered turning to face the front. He checked his watch and found that the class was set to begin. 

A man with a deep tan, dark hair, and smile lines around his eyes, stood at the front of he room and clapped his hands together twice. All the conversation stopped and the other members of the class, ten people in all, looked at the instructor. “Hello, everyone and welcome.” He had a slight accent but, Harry couldn’t tell where it was from. 

Harry leaned to Ron and whispered, “You didn’t tell me the instructor was so fit, Ron.” 

“I was going to use it to convince you if you said no, now it’s just a bonus,” Ron whispered back, eyes still on the instructor who was asking everyone their names. 

“And you two are?” The instructor turned to them. 

“Ron Weasley and Harry Potter,” Ron answered. 

“Well, that’s everyone except for two-”

What ever the instructor was going to say was cut off by the door opening and a voice calling out, “Sorry we’re late, had a bit of trouble finding the place, _come on_ , Greg.” Harry stiffened, and Ron, who was already turned half way to the door, took in a breath as he watched Harry and the two people coming through the door. 

“Harry,” Ron whispered, a panicked plea. 

“It’s not a problem, but don’t make it a habit,” the instructor told the two. “You must be Draco Malfoy and Gregory Goyle?”

“Yes, I’m Draco Malfoy,” the words died on his lips as Harry turned to face the door. 

“The saviours?” Greg finally stepped into the room looking just as green as Ron had moments earlier. 

“Pardon?” The instructor asked. Harry shook his head slightly and looked directly at Draco. 

“Nothing, sorry for being late,” Greg murmured, looking back at the instructor. 

The instructor nodded and made his way back up to the front. “Well, now that everyone is here, let’s get started. First, I suppose I should formally introduce myself. I’m Alex Perez, and I’m going to teach you not only the basics of cooking, but how to master them.”

As Alex continued to explain how the course would run, Harry swore he heard Draco whisper “You didn’t tell me the instructor was so fit,” to Greg. 

The rest of class consisted of Alex showing them around the kitchen, explaining various tools and the like. Harry didn’t pay much attention, but to be fair he already knew most of this. Ron, on the other hand, looked like he’d never seen a kitchen before and was hanging on Alex’s every word. Harry was too distracted by physically willing himself to not look at Draco, to share in Ron’s enthusiasm any time Ron looked his way. As the class was winding down Harry tuned back in to Alex. 

“So, the true test of your culinary abilities will be measured by working in stressful conditions,” Alex said. There were murmurs across the room, but they ceased when Alex held his hand up. “Now, I know some of you came here with others, some came alone, so to teach you to work with people who you don’t know, I will assign pairs shortly.” 

“What?” Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve never seen a pair that didn’t get along.” 

“Oh, er, right,” Harry replied. He had obviously not accounted for having Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter in his class Harry thought.What were the chances he’d be assigned with Ron? Or with Greg? Or Merlin forbid, Draco? Harry allowed himself to turn his head slightly to see if the Slytherin’s were struggling with the same thoughts. He noticed Greg looked as if he would run from the room at any moment, but Draco seemed like he hadn’t even heard Alex’s proclamation. 

“So, to assign you to pairs I will be calling out names at random via an app.” Alex pulled out an iPhone and set it on the clipboard of names he was holding. He asked everyone line up against the wall to free the stations. Once everything was clear Alex began. “The first pair will be Smith and Ajazi.” A man and woman stepped up and took their place at the first station. The second pair was Greg and a short woman called Jones. The fourth pair was Ron and a man named Kim. Harry was starting to get nervous. There was only him, two muggles, and Draco left. Ron couldn’t take his eyes off Harry as Alex called out the next pair. “Keyes and Thomas.”

Harry suppressed a groan as he watched the two take their place at their station. “Well,” Alex called. “That just leaves Potter and Malfoy. Everyone feel free to use the last five minutes of class to get to know your partner.” 

“Of course it does,” Harry heard Draco snort. The two walked over and took their places at the final station. As they were standing side by side Harry finally took the chance to look at Draco. He was much the same as ever, Harry supposed. Still about a head taller than himself, features still sharp, but in a fashion magazine kind of way. His hair was loose and tousled, a look Harry suspected he spent at least an hour on. He was suddenly conscious of his own hair, tousled in a more of a ‘I tried’ type of way. The striking thing was the way he was dressed, tight dark jeans, loafers without socks, and a black button down tucked in only in the front. Harry had almost no problem in admitting that his old rival looked good. 

Though clothes was an area Harry felt at least semi-confident in. He’d been able to develop a certain amount of style in the past few years, thanks to Cho Chang mostly, and he knew he at least looked put together. 

So when Draco turned to face him, and Harry could tell he was trying his best not to look down his nose at him Harry was able totilt his head up, look Draco directly in the eye, dare him to start something. 

“I would say I’m surprised, Potter, but honestly, I’m really not.”

Harry blinked. “You’re not?”

Draco leaned an elbow on the counter. “Why should I be? It’s obvious the powers that be have it out for me, so not only must a take a muggle cooking class, but of course _you’d_ be in it. Payment for my past indiscretions, I suppose.” Draco looked away.

“ _Indiscretions?”_ Harry flared. “Is that what you call them?”

Draco turned back to Harry with an eye-roll. “Merlin, Potter, I’m not talking about Hogwarts, I’m talking about bed warmers.” Harry squinted. “Sex, Potter, I’m talking about numerous un-named sexual partners.”

Without warning, Harry felt an unexpected burst of anger at the statement. He chalked it up to frustration at his own current lack of un-named sexual partners. Harry realised the feeling had reflected across his face, as Draco eyes narrowed. “What? Surprised that any one would sleep with me?”

“What? No.”

“I assure you, Potter, I have plenty of more than willing bodies at my disposal.”

Harry shook his head with a snort. “I bet you do, Malfoy. I’ll see you next class.” Harry brushed past him with a nod to Ron. When he exited the to room he looked back to see Draco looking after him a curious expression on his face. 

-

That night Ron, Hermione, and Harry got take away and discussed the days events. 

“Bad luck that Malfoy and Goyle are there, though,” Ron said between bites of curry. 

“Yeah, bad luck for _me_ ,” Harry said. 

“Well, you don’t really have to be at the class, do you, Harry?” Hermione reasoned. “Ron, can go on his own.”

“Mione,” Ron whined, and Harry laughed. 

“No, but there’s no way I’m going to be the one that quits,” Harry said. “He can quit, I was there _first._ ”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “What is this sixth year?” 

“May as well be, the way he was talking.” 

“Did you ever stop to consider he was uncomfortable and didn’t know what to do?” Both Ron and Harry turned to stare at Hermione. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, you two. Do you have any idea why he was even _there_?”

“Because he’s up to something?”

“To hex us?”

“Do you have any idea what happened to Goyle’s family after the war?”

“No,” Ron said. “But I’m sure they deserved it.”

“Ronald Weasley!” Hermione shrilled, and Harry could feel a fight coming on. 

“You know, I think I’m just going to head home.” Ron and Hermione barely paid him any mind as he headed to the fireplace, already too deep into an argument about empathy and sympathy and second chances. 

When Harry was back in his own flat, he pulled a beer from the fridge, sat on the couch, and flipped on the telly. He mindlessly watched a crime show, while thinking about what Hermione had said and the curious look on Draco’s face when he left the class room that day. 

-

When Harry and Ron walked into the classroom the following Friday, Draco and Greg were already at their assigned stations. 

Harry took his place next to Draco with only a nod in his direction. Draco didn’t even glance at him. The instructor, Alex, was already there, talking with Greg who looked ready to make a break for the door at any moment, like perhaps the muggles around him could smell the magic on him. 

After everyone had arrived, Alex moved to the front of the room and clapped his hands once, signaling the start of the class. 

“Today, I thought we would start with a classic- chocolate chip cookies. It’s my firm belief, that everyone should have a killer cookie recipe, so I will be sharing mine with you today.” Alex pulled out a board with a recipe written on it. “You will find ingredients on the back shelf, please collect them and return to your stations.” 

At this, Draco finally turned to Harry. He said nothing, just looked at Harry expectantly. “You’re joking,” Harry said with an unimpressed look. 

“I never joke about manual labour, Potter,” Draco said with a smirk. 

“Of course you fucking don’t,” Harry grumbled, and started to make his way to the ingredients cabinet. By the time he got there everyone had gathered their supplies. Harry was just about to pick up the sugar when a wicked idea struck him. He looked around the room to see if anyone was paying attention and whispered a quick spell to switch the labels on the sugar and the salt. 

Harry returned with the ingredients in a basket and started setting them on the counter in front of himself and Draco. 

“Now, the first rule of cooking is to read the recipe completely before you begin. I know, seems simple enough, but you’d be surprised but what can go wrong when you do it as you go,” Alex explained. “So take your time and make sure you understand everything.” Harry snuck a glance at Draco, but he seemed completely at ease with the situation. “I will come around and answer any questions you may have and give pointers. You may begin.” 

“I’ll start with the dry ingredients and you the wet,” Draco said. 

“Why can’t I do the dry?” Harry asked. 

“Because they require more precision, and I doubt you can accidentally add an extra egg or stick of butter.”

“It’s baking, Malfoy, not rocket science.” Draco scrunched up his nose. “Space? The moon? Any of those ring a bell?”

“As I was saying,” Draco continued, as if he hadn’t heard Harry. “You start with the wet and I with the dry.” He bent down to pre-heat their oven. 

Harry smiled to himself as he began to combine the wet ingredients. Draco peered over to tell him he was beating the mixture too hard, but other than that they worked in silence. After they had combined both the ingredients, Alex appeared in front of them, nodding in approval at the colour and texture of the dough. 

“Now, make sure you taste the dough before you bake them, a little raw egg won’t kill you.” 

“Of course,” Draco replied. “A little bad is good for you every now and again,” he said with a blatant leer. 

Harry watched wide eyed as Alex shot him a small smirk and moved on. 

“What the fuck, Malfoy?” Harry hissed when Alex was out of ear shot. 

“Problem?” Draco raised his eyebrows.

“None at all,” Harry ground out and returned to stirring the chocolate chips into the dough. 

“You’d better taste that, there’s no way I’m getting salmonella over some stupid cooking class,” Draco told him pulling out a cookie sheet. 

“Oh, and so I should?” Harry shot back. 

“You’re young and strong, Potter, you’ll bounce back.”

Harry smirked to himself, his plan was going better than expected. He would have thought Draco would be the type to enjoy raw cookie dough, and his little trick would be exposed before the baking stage. But now, he saw an opportunity.Harry made a show of taking a bite of cookie dough, swiping some with his finger. 

“You can’t use a spoon, you pleb?” Draco admonished. 

Harry maintained defiant eye contact as he put his finger in his mouth, and slowly pulled it out, licked clean. He was too busy trying not to gag from the onslaught of salt that he missed Draco’s small blush as he turned away. 

“It’s good,” Harry said. Draco nodded and began dropping small balls of dough onto the cookie sheet.Harry watched as he arranged them perfectly spaced and of the same size. “How are you doing that?” Harry asked before he could stop himself. 

“With my arm,” Draco replied without looking up. 

“Git.”

“I just like things to be a certain way, that’s all,” Draco said, he was strangely immersed in the task. Harry studied him while he did so. He was still impeccable, he hadn’t even got flour on him in the midst of baking. His hair was still perfectly styled, and his finger nails neatly trimmed. He was unusually neat, Harry thought. 

When Draco had finished setting the dough on the tray to bake, he popped them into the oven and set the timer. Harry took the ingredients back to the cupboard and spelled the labels right. 

“Now what do we do?” Harry asked looking around. 

“Certainly not make small talk,” Draco said and Harry grinned. 

“Are you gay?” Harry asked and Draco started. “What? you said not to make small talk.”

“Who asks their childhood nemesis if they’re gay in the middle of a room full of people? Worse yet, who admits it to their childhood nemesis?”

“You weren’t my childhood nemesis, Malfoy,” Harry replied, leaning against the counter.

“What? And I suppose you think it was Voldemort? Hardly a nemesis, really, you barely saw him. Besides, he never did have the flair I did for making your life miserable.”

“No, I suppose you had him on the flair bit, Malfoy,” Harry conceded.

“As I was saying, not that it’s the business of my childhood nemesis, but no I am _not_ gay. I’m bi-sexual.”

“Really?” Harry raised his brows so high, he wasn’t sure they’d come down when called. 

“Yes, is that a problem?” Draco challenged. 

“No, it’s not, it’s just, I’m gay,” Harry admitted. 

“Of course you are, Potter.”

“Hey!” Harry looked up to find Draco smirking. “That’s rude.”

“Whatever, Potter.” 

“So you think Alex is fit, then?” Harry asked. 

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” Draco turned to face Harry. “Yes, I do. Why don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not like I’m going to try and pull him in front of everyone in his cooking class.”

“Well, that’s really your loss,” Draco said, catching Alex’s eye from across the room and giving him a small smile. Harry glared. 

“Some of us have class,” Harry sniffed.

“Potter, the only class you have is low.” Just then the timer dinged. Harry reached down and opened the oven, pulling out the cookies. Draco laid the parchment paper out in front of them, and Harry grabbed a spatula and began setting the cookies out to cool. 

Alex stepped up to the front of the room and clapped his hands once. “It seems that everyone is just about done, so I will be coming around to taste your creations. Don’t worry if they didn’t come out exactly as you liked, practice makes perfect. I think I’ll start with Draco and Harry.”

Alex walked to the station, looking at Draco who had a charming smile plastered on his face. Harry rolled his eyes, and resisted a snort. 

“Now, these look lovely,” Alex said picking one up. 

“Yes, Draco was so good about placing the dough. He was so precise about mixing the dry ingredients, as well. They came out just like a picture,” Harry said and Draco stepped on his foot. 

“They certainly did, I can’t wait to try one,” Alex said looking directly into Draco’s eyes as he took a bite. Alex’s eyes went wide and he immediately grabbed a napkin and spit a cookie into it, coughing. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked innocently.

“Salt,” Alex gasped. “It’s salt.”

“What?” Draco said with disbelief and picked up a cookie. He took nibble and his mouth turned into a sneer. He turned on his heel to loom over Harry. “Potter! What did you do?”

“Me?” Harry asked. “I didn’t do anything with the dry ingredients.” 

“Did no one taste the dough?” Alex cut in. 

“He did.” both Harry and Draco replied at the same time. 

“Potter, I most certainly did not. You tasted the dough!”

“What? No, I didn’t. I thought you had,” Harry replied. 

“In any case,” Alex said loudly, “This is why we always taste as we go along. An important lesson to be had. Better luck next time, boys.” Alex moved on to the next station.

Draco glared down at Harry while he started to clean up the station and toss the cookies. “I don’t know what you did, Potter, but I will get you back for this.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Malfoy,” Harry said smirking up at him. “I haven’t done a thing.” 

Draco smiled then, something competitive and absolutely brilliant. “Have it your way, Potter.” 

The next class they were required to make a bolognese, and Harry found himself covered in sauce just as he was plating their dish. A snickering Draco revealed the culprit, but Harry couldn’t prove he had used magic to sabotage their dish to a bunch of muggles. So, Harry reasoned, it was all out war. 

When they were to make split pea soup, Harry “forgot” to close the lid on the blender, and Draco, of course not knowing what a blender was, turned it on and drenched himself in green pea sludge. 

“That’s really your colour,” Harry had told him with a smirk. Draco flicked soup into his eyes. 

When they were meant to make an omelette, Draco dropped the hot pan several times on Harry’s hand, before Harry added an obscene amount of hot sauce. Draco had started sweating and choking as soon as he took a bite. Harry had ‘helped’ by splashing water in his face. 

Harry was enjoying their little game, and he could tell Draco was, too. It was probably the most exciting thing Harry had done in months. Thinking about how to outsmart Draco in the kitchen, or how he could be outwitted by Draco occupied most of his time. It was a bit like being back in school, but with less animosity. Either way, Harry couldn't wait to get to class each day. 

-

It was after what was just referred to as “The Peanut Butter Incident” that Ron intervened. 

“Come on Harry, let’s get a pint,” Ron said as he headed for the class room door. 

“Yeah, alright,” Harry said distractedly, watching Draco make his way up to Alex, a sheepish smile on his face. 

“Mate?” 

“Yeah, coming, Ron.” 

When they had settled in their booth, with their beers, Ron took a deep breath. “Harry, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but this thing with Malfoy has got to stop.” 

“But Ron,” Harry said trying and failing not to whine. “He started it.”

“When did he start it, Harry?”

Harry thought about it, and remembered that actually he was the one that started it with the salt. But Draco had started it when he expected Harry to do all the hard work. Yes, the salt had been childish, but Draco deserved it.“When he showed up,” Harry finally said. 

“Harry,” Ron sighed. “It’s distracting the whole class. Even Goyle thinks so.”

“You’ve talked to Goyle about this?”

“Yeah, we got a pint a few days ago.” Ron turned away. “I asked him to, after what ‘Mione told me about his family and all, I kind of felt I had to. I wanted to hear it from him. He’s actually a decent bloke, really.” 

“You had a _pint_ with Gregory Goyle, minion of Draco Malfoy and you think he’s _decent_?” Harry set his glass down with a thud and sat back, arms crossed. 

“Harry, we aren’t in Hogwarts anymore. I know, I didn’t want to like any Slytherin’s either, but really. You and Malfoy are ruining this whole thing for me and Goyle. Probably the rest of the class, too.” 

Harry sighed. He knew Ron was right. He needed to stop fighting with Draco for Ron’s sake. 

“I’m sorry, Ron, you’re right.” 

They chatted for a bit longer before heading home. That night Harry wrote Draco a short note asking to meet for drink the next night. Harry fell asleep waiting for a reply. 

-

Harry was awakened by a tapping on his window. He groaned and got out of bed, blinking against the strong sunlight. When he opened the window a large eagle owl hit him the face as it flew into the room. 

“You must be Malfoy’s,” Harry said tersely. The owl regarded him with a cool look and stuck out its leg. Harry took the letter and the owl immediately took off again, it’s wings flapping against Harry’s head. “Thanks!” Harry called after it sarcastically. He quickly scanned the note, and found Draco had agreed to tonight, though of course he had changed the location and time. Satisfied, Harry decided to sleep for a few more hours. 

-

“You’re late,” Harry said as Draco slipped into the booth across from him. 

“Hardly,” Draco replied. “What are you drinking?”

“Firewhiskey.”

“Probably a good idea to start with hard stuff if we are going to enjoy the pleasure of each other’s company,” Draco said, turning to signal the bartender. A glass appeared in front of him a moment later. He lifted it in salute to Harry and said, “Cheers.” The both took a hearty slug of their drinks. 

“So,” Harry began, but didn’t know how to finish the statement. 

“Please don’t tell me you asked me here to demonstrate your lack of conversational skills.” 

Harry glared. “Don’t be a prick, Malfoy. I’m trying.” 

Draco leaned back with an insincere smile. “Of course, Potter, you’re right. Let’s try to get along for the sake of our friends.”

“I need more alcohol,” Harry muttered, and downed his drink. He signaled for another and picked up the fresh one.Draco mimicked him. They finished the second one silently and got a third before Draco spoke. 

“So, fuck anyone decent lately?” Draco asked. Harry choked on his drink. 

“Jesus, Malfoy,” he said spluttering. 

“What, I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“What kind of conversation is my sex life?”

“I take it you don’t have much of one, then,” Draco replied smirking. 

“Sod off,” Harry said without venom and Draco laughed. “What about you?” 

Draco swirled his drink. “No, not really. But I am hoping to change that.” He looked at Harry. 

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. “You mean Alex?”

“Yeah, Alex,” Draco said after a moment. “He’s just my type really.”

“In a position of power, you mean?”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Draco said quietly, he finished his drink and stood. 

“Wait, Malfoy, I’m sorry,” Harry said. 

“Potter, I really don’t need to sit here and make nice with you in order to work with you.”

“Yes, I know, but I just- look please just stay.” Harry had grabbed his wrist in a moment of panic. Draco looked at his hand and Harry let go, flushing. 

“Fine, I’ll stay, but you’re buying.” Draco sat. 

From there Harry moved on to the relatively safer topic of brooms. They discussed the newest models and moved on to the less safe topic of actual Quidditch teams. They were both surprised to find they supported the same team, but their views differed when it came to the Seeker. 

Harry could tell Draco wanted to ask him, but didn’t quite know how to broach it. He could feel it clogging the air around him, so he saved Draco the trouble and brought it up himself. 

“You can ask you know,” Harry said. 

“Why did you quit?” Draco asked without missing a beat. 

“I didn’t enjoy it anymore.”

“Why?”

Harry sighed and took another sip of his drink. “The rumors weren’t true, but they didn’t need to be.” When Harry looked up he found Draco looking at him, an unreadable expression on his face. “What? Do you want me to say it?”

“No,” Draco said. “I was just thinking how very unlike you that is.”

“What do you mean? That I quit? I’ve been told,” Harry grumbled. 

“Not that you quit, though that is very unlike you. That you even let the situation bother you. You never seemed bothered by me back in school, really.”

“I was just better at hiding it,” Harry explained. “You know I used to follow you around.”

“Potter, Dean Thomas’ great aunt knew that.”

“Yes, but not everyone knew I did it with an Invisibility Cloak.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “The snow balls!” Harry began to laugh and nodded. “I knew that was you! I just couldn’t figure out how. You wanker.” Draco started to laugh, too, and it was such a strange noise that Harry started laughing even harder, until they were both reduced to to tears. 

Harry wiped his eyes as his giggles died down. “You really should have seen your face, though.”

“I’m sure it was the picture of composure.”

“If you call pissing yourself with fear composure.” 

“Shove it, you,” Draco said, tossing an ice cube at Harry. “But really,” he said after a moment. “Why did you let it get to you?”

Harry sat back and sighed. He’d never really discussed this with anyone. Hermione had her theory, that he didn’t do it for himself. The truth was the decision had been entirely selfish. “When it came out,” he began, “I thought it would blow over eventually. But it never really did, and they started dragging more and more people into the situation. It got out of control. And as much as I love playing Quidditch, I liked being left alone more. I’ve grown to accept the spot light, but that doesn’t mean I want to be there, and certainly not for that.”

“But don’t you want to clear your name, at least?” Draco asked, elbows on the table. 

“Most people didn’t actually believe it anyway, and it’s been such a long time now, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Shame though, you were brilliant,” Draco said with a small smile. 

Harry grinned, “Why Draco Malfoy, was that a compliment?”

Draco sat up straight and cleared his throat. “Certainly, not. It was simply a truthful observation.”

“You think I’m brilliant.”

“I believe I said _were,_ Potter.”

“If it helps, I’ve always thought you were a great flyer, as well.”

Draco sniffed. “It helps a little.” 

Harry laughed and shook his head. The action made him feel dizzy. “Woah, I’m more drunk than I thought.” He checked his watch. “We should probably get going before I make even more an ass of myself.”

“You’d be hard pressed to do it, but I can appreciate the sentiment.” 

“You’re not drunk at all, are you?” Harry asked standing. 

“If I was do you think I’d tell you?”

“Probably not,” Harry said, laying a few coins on the table. They made their way to the door with a nod to the barman. Once outside they headed towards the appriation point. “We should do this again sometime,” Harry said. 

“I’ll think about it Potter,” Draco replied and Harry rolled his eyes. “See you in class.” And then Draco was gone. 

-

No one was more surprised than Harry to find that he and Draco actually worked well together. Except for maybe Alex. 

“This risotto is amazing,” Alex said at their next class. “I’m so glad to see you two finally getting the hang of it. Have you been practising?”

“Here and there,” Draco said with much more sexuality than the situation called for.

“It’s paying off,” Alex said with a grin, and walked away. 

Harry gave Draco a look. “I have been practising, Potter.” Harry raised his brows. “Potions is like cooking.”

“Whatever, Malfoy.”

Even though they weren’t trying to sabotage the other, that didn’t mean they weren’t still competing, but now it was to see who could make a dish the best. It was Harry’s idea to add the mayo to the cake they had made, which made it more moist, but Draco thought to cut back on the oil to make their fried rice fluffier. But no matter whose idea it was they were quickly becoming the best students in the class. Harry found that he was actually enjoying working with Draco. He admired his methodical approach to cooking, it was scientific to him, but without being dull.

Harry looked forward to seeing Draco, to spending time with him during class. Cooking with him felt similar to flying with him, they kept each other on their toes, it was challenging and exhilarating, but this time, they were on the same team. Best of all, Ron and Greg were finally able to concentrate on their own dishes instead of worrying about breaking up a potential fight between Draco and Harry. 

And then Alex made announcement. 

“As next time is our last class, I like to run a little competition,” Alex said. “The winners of the competition will receive five free one-on-one lessons from me, as well as bragging rights, of course. As for the rules, you may make what ever you wish using the ingredients on this sheet.” Alex walked down the aisle and handed out papers as he talked. “If you have any question feel free to ask me after class, or email me. Other than that, thanks for a great class, today.” 

A sudden surge of excitement filled Harry, and without warning he was struck with the overwhelming urge to win the competition. He immediately turned to Draco. “We have to talk about what we’re going to make.” Draco looked up from the list and blinked. “Let me see the list.” Harry snatched it from Draco’s hands. 

“Of course, Potter, here you are,” Draco said disapproval soaking his words. Harry paid him no mind. 

“If we’re going to win, then we need to make something amazing. Are you busy right now? Lets go get a pint and talk,” Harry said already heading towards the door, eyes still glued to the list. 

Draco gave him a light kick to the back of the leg. Harry spun around, a curse already forming on his lips, but Draco cut him off. “Potter, as it happens, I have plans this evening.”

“What?” Harry faltered. “But we-”

“Look, I’ll meet you tomorrow night, say seven?” Draco pushed off the station which he was leaning and started to roll down his sleeves. “I’ll owl you the details.”

Harry tried to hide his disappointment but nodded anyway. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Malfoy.” Draco lingered, so Harry thought it was best to go. 

True to his word, Draco owled the next day confirming the time and place for the meeting. When Harry arrived he was surprised to find Draco already there, drinking a glass of wine at the bar. 

“You’re late, Potter,” Draco said without turning.

“Not really,” Harry replied sliding into the chair next to him. He signaled to the bar tender and a glass of wine appeared before him. When Draco finally turned, Harry’s breath caught a little. Somehow, in the light, Draco’s eyes had become extraordinarily clear, the brightness of them was so unexpected Harry quickly took a sip of his wine in order to look away. “So are we going to sit at the bar, then?” Harry asked when he’d sorted himself. 

“No, I have a table reserved.” Draco stood without warning and headed for a booth to his left. Harry got up rather gracelessly and followed. 

When they were settled, menus appeared before them. “So, Potter,” Draco said while scanning the menu. “Why the desperation to win the competition?”

“What do you mean?”

Draco chuckled and looked up at Harry over the menu. “Ah, I suppose that was a silly question. Obviously your Gryffindor tendencies make it genetically impossible for you not to want to win.”

“What’s wrong with winning?” Harry said, setting the menu down. “I seem to recall you trying to do a hell of a lot of it in the past.”

Draco looked back at the menu. “True, but really that was just against you. And seeing as we are on the same team, it doesn’t hold the same appeal for me, especially seeing as our only real competition would be Weasley.” 

“So you don’t want to win?”

“I didn’t say that. I said it didn’t hold the same appeal for me.” Draco tapped his wand on the menu, before reaching over and grabbing Harry’s, tapping his as well. He ignored Harry’s indignant ‘hey!’ and continued. “Nevertheless, we will win the competition if it is that important to you.”

Harry sat back and crossed his arms. “Don’t you want to impress Alex?” Harry grumbled.

“A superfluous gesture. He’s already impressed.” Draco leaned in with a leer and Harry huffed. “Still having a hard time, Potter?”

“It’s none of your business.” The dishes appeared before them. Steak medallions for Draco, braised pear with gorgonzola cheese chicken breast for Harry. Harry looked expectantly from his plate to Draco who was already eating. 

“It’s not a mistake, Potter, try it.” Draco gestured with his fork. Harry cut off a small piece and took a tentative bite. As soon as the flavours hit his tongue his eyes went wide and Draco smirked. “Good?” Harry nodded as he chewed. “Now, about what we should make for Friday.” 

They spent the next few hours discussing potential recipes, but segued into Harry teaching Draco how to use his iPhone, and then on to the general wonders of the internet. Draco was surprised to learn his family had stock on the muggle market, and eventually Harry taught him about memes. Draco didn’t really understand those, but he did find Harry’s favourite Vines to be highly amusing, laughing out loud more than once. All the while they continued to drink until the bar man announced last call. 

By the time they left the restaurant, a recipe decided on, they were giggly and well drunk. As they were walking down the street Harry looked up at Draco. 

“Say, Malfoy,” Harry said suddenly serious. “There’s something I’ve been wondering.”

“What?”

“Why are you and Goyle in the class anyway?” 

Draco turned, a surprised look on his face. “You mean Weasley didn’t tell you?” Harry shook his head. “Well, the reparations hit Greg’s family pretty hard. They lost everything. Then his mother was murdered, she got sick after his father was sent away, and their wards were weak.” 

“Wait, his mum was murdered? I didn’t hear about that.”

“No one did,” Draco snorted. “The ministry covered it up.”

“But that’s not right!” Harry shouted. “The ministry can’t do that!”

“Shhh,” Draco said grabbing Harry and pulling him into an alley. “Are you crazy?”

“It’s not right, though,” Harry said looking up at Draco angrily. “They can’t just cover up a _murder._ ”

“They can when the victim was married to a Death Eater.”

“It’s not right,” Harry whispered. 

“I know,” Draco replied, eyes gleaming in the dark. “But a lot of things aren’t.” 

“But what does that have to do with the class?” Harry asked after a moment. 

“Greg used to bake with his mum. He missed it. He missed her. So he decided to take a class where no one would judge him. Only you two were there.”

“But where does that leave you?” Harry asked. 

“Same as you, I suppose,” Draco said glancing away. “Greg needed me.”

Without thinking Harry reached up and took hold of Draco’s head, pulling him down to meet Harry, their lips pressing together without hesitation. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist. Harry pushed himself up into Draco’s mouth, trying to get closer than as entirely necessary. He ran his hands up into the blond strands still visible in the dimness of the alley way and absently noted the silky feel. Draco tasted like merlot and zest. 

His hands on Harry’s waist felt like small stinging hexes, hot and full of pressure. Suddenly Draco pulled away and Harry tumbled after him. “Potter,” he whispered.

“What?

“We shouldn’t.” Harry stepped back as quickly as if Draco had pushed him. “That’s not what I mean,” he said, pulling Harry back to him, his mouth hovering over his. 

“Then what do you mean?” Their lips brushed and Harry’s eyes fell shut. 

“I mean that we are both rather intoxicated, and if we are going to do this, I want to do it properly. I want to remember it.” He pulled back and looked at Harry with such clear intention that Harry almost took a step back. Draco grabbed his chin, forcing him to look him in the eye. “I want you to remember it, every second of it.” He kissed him harshly. Harry responded eagerly and in kind. After a few moments they broke apart. 

“I want that too,” Harry breathed finally. 

Draco stepped away slowly, his fingers lingering on Harry’s hips.“I’ll owl you, Potter,” was all he said before walking out of the alley. 

-

Harry was nervous for the first time walking into the classroom. He had only briefly heard from Draco, he had owled to ask to go out after class. When Harry did enter the classroom he saw Alex speaking to Draco at their station. Alex saw him and gave him a nod before turning back to Draco. 

As Harry approached, he heard Alex say “Thanks for the other night, we should do it again sometime.” Harry started, was Draco seeing Alex? Worse was he seeing him _after_ they had, well, whatever they had done? Alex was still smiling at Draco and Draco was nodding back and as Harry stepped up next to them, he made a decision. 

“Hello, Harry, it’s nice to see you. Ready for today?” Alex asked.

“Yes, perfect, thanks.” Harry nodded, giving Draco a cool side glance. 

“Good luck today you two,” Alex said with a smile and walked away.

Draco seemed to pick up on Harry’s attitude, and whispered, “Something wrong, Potter?”

“No,” Harry replied in tone that suggested there was definitely something wrong. 

“Potter, I-” Draco was cut off when Alex clapped his hands together. 

“Alright, before we began I just want to say you should all pat yourselves on the back, as you’ve done an amazing job these past few weeks. I hope that you now feel confident enough in the kitchen to prepare meals for yourselves and others. Thanks for a great class. Now, you will find all of your available ingredients in the refrigerators and cupboards. Have fun and good luck! Your time starts now!” 

Harry hastily made his way to the storage area, Draco opting to stay behind. What they had decided on was a relatively simple dish that was relatively easy to mess up: Seared Duck Breast with Pomegranate molasses and almond roasted green beans. Harry dropped the arm load of ingredients on the worktop.

“Why don’t you start with the duck breast,” Draco said picking up the green beans. 

Harry said nothing and picked up the duck breast and salt. He began rubbing salt into the meat while Draco prepped the green beans for roasting. Once done, he set the meat into a sauté pan to sear. Harry could feel Draco giving him sidelong glances, but he didn’t return any of them. He was trying to concentrate on his duck, he didn’t want to think about the kiss he shared with Draco and how it clearly meant nothing because obviously Draco was fucking Alex and worse he was doing it _after_ he had kissed Harry.

“Potter,” Draco began but Harry immediately cut him off. 

“I need something to put this fat in,” Harry said. Draco sighed and pulled out a small glass dish, setting it down just as Harry started to spoon the excess fat from the pan. Draco didn’t move his hand away quickly enough and Harry ended up pouring hot duck fat on to it.

“Fuck! Potter!” Draco shouted and everyone turned to look at them.

“Everything alright?” Alex called, already starting to walk towards them. 

“Fineehhhnnnnnnnn,” Harry’s reply was lost in a moan of pain, as Draco had shot him a wordless form of afflingo. 

Harry saw Ron’s mouth open out of the corner of his eye, but it was too, late. Harry opened his mouth, wand slipping out of his sleeve and shouted, “ _Aures Radiculae!_ ” Draco tried to move, but he was too late and radishes began to fall from his left ear. 

The members of the class began to scream. Greg and Ron pulled out their wands and started to stupefy the muggles. 

“Fuck you, Potter!” Draco shouted, he pointed his wand and cast, “ _Depesius_!” But seeing as his aim was a little off, due to the rapidly falling radishes, he hit Greg instead. Draco paid it no mind and immediately cast a sneezing jinx, hitting Harry square in the face. 

Harry began sneezing uncontrollably, trying and failing to cast an eat slugs, so his wand was producing slime, meanwhile Ron was trying to get a fallen Greg back on his feet, but had somehow gone down with him. Draco’s radishes were getting larger by the second, causing his head to tilt, he was walking a circle, shouting at Harry, and trying to get the radishes to stop, all the while there were several pans on fire and stupefied muggles scatter about the room.

“ _Finite incantatem!I_ ” Came a loud voice from the door. Everyone, including the slowly waking muggles, turned to see Ginny Weasley, hands on hips, standing in the door way. 

“Gin!” Ron cried in relief. “Thank goodness it’s you!”

“What the hell happened here?” Ginny demanded, as Seamus came into the room.

“Obvious, isn’t it,” Seamus said. “Malfoy and Harry had a go at each other.” A lone radish fell from Draco’s ear and rolled away. 

Ginny sighed and began to help Seamus round up the terrified muggles. “You two are lucky it’s just us. We’re going to take care of these lot, but you two can play clean up here.” 

“Ron,” Harry began, but Ron shook his head and mouthed later, as he helped his partner out of the room. Greg gave Draco a disappointed look and shut the door to the classroom. 

Harry sighed and began to put out the fires that he could see, while Draco went to check the ovens. They worked in silence, vanishing the half cooked food, and cleaning the dishes. Draco began to round up the fallen radishes. 

“What are you doing? Just vanish them,” Harry said. 

“There’s no use letting perfectly good food go to waste,” Draco replied, still picking up the radishes. 

Harry puffed out a breath of air and began to help. When they were all finished, Harry turned to go, when Draco grabbed him by the arm. 

“Care to explain?” Draco raised a brow.

“Not particularly,” Harry replied, trying to wiggle out of Draco’s grasp. 

“Potter,” Draco said, grabbing his other arm and pulling Harry to face him. “You just pulled your wand in front of a bunch of muggles to make radishes fall from my ears. I think a deserve an explanation.” 

Harry looked stubbornly away. “Yes, well so do I,” he grumbled.

Draco leaned down at the waist so his face was directly in front of Harry’s. “What was that?”

Harry looked defiantly into Draco’s face. “I said, so do I!”

“For what?” Draco stood back up, letting go of Harry’s arms. 

“For Alex!”

“What?” Draco looked genuinely confused and Harry shook his head, trying to head for the door again. "No, what are you talking about?" Draco grabbed him again. 

"It doesn't matter," Harry said quietly. "Just forget it, Malfoy."

"Don't be difficult, Potter, you said Alex."

"I heard him say thanks for the other night. And I just...over-reacted?"

"You're ridiculous, Potter," Draco said, pulling Harry to him and kissing him gently. Harry remained stiff for a long moment before lightly returning the pressure. Draco pulled away. “I went out with Alex after class last time. That’s why I couldn’t go out with you.”

Harry felt stupidity and embarrassment hit him like a hot pan to the face. His cheeks were flushing and he knew there was nothing he could do. He glanced up to find Draco smiling down at him, amusement clear in his eyes. “Potter, I had a nice time with Alex, I won’t lie, but that’s all it was, a nice time.”

“So, what are you saying, because I’m going to need you to be really specific, seeing as I broke the statute to make radishes fall from your ears for…being ridiculous.”

Draco looked upwards, took a deep breath and puffed it out, blowing his hair off his forehead. His gaze remained skywards as he spoke, “I’m saying that I would rather spend time with you than with Alex. Because I find you…appealing?” He looked down and found Harry giving him an unimpressed look. “Oh for Salazar’s sake, I like you, Potter.” 

Harry’s face broke into a grin and pulled Draco down to him, “I find you appealing too, Malfoy.”

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist as they kissed. They stumbled back into the work top, and Draco turned them, grabbing Harry by the ass and lifting him to sit on the counter. As the kiss deepened, Harry wrapped his legs around Draco’s waist, a small moan escaping as their groins met. 

Harry reached for Draco’s buttons, undoing the first two before pulling back looking at Draco in askance. Draco reached up, put his hands over Harry’s and resumed undoing his shirt. Harry leaned back in to kiss him, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth. When Draco’s shirt was unbuttoned, he pushed Harry back lightly. 

Hecast a quick softening charmbefore divesting Harry of his glasses and shirt. When he reached for Harry’s belt buckle, Harry’s hands stopped him.

“Do you think we should be doing this? In here I mean?”

“I suppose it’s a little risky,” Draco conceded, his gaze suddenly averted. “But that’s half the fun, isn’t it.” He reached slightly behind Harry and picked up the lone things left on the table- a jar of pomegranate molasses. He opened the jar, and Harry watched as he stuck a finger in it, and tasted it. “Mmm, you want some?” Harry nodded unsure, Draco scooped some out, and instead of offering it to Harry, spread the substance across his own neck. 

Harry leaned forward with a grin and swiped his tongue across the sticky neck, Draco’s hands coming up to thread through his hair. Once Harry had licked Draco clean, he began to suckle lightly on his neck until Draco pulled him away. “Well?” he prompted. 

“It was delicious, your best work yet,” Harry answered. 

Draco smirked, and pushed Harry back so he was leaning on his elbows, and began to take Harry’s pants off. “Well, I’d very much like to see what you are serving.” Harry lifted his hips to let Draco take his jeans and pants off at the same time. His cock sprung free, hard and waiting. “Ah, my favourite,” Draco said dipping his fingers in the molasses again, he let it drip from his hand, falling in drops on Harry’s cock and rolling down the sides. 

“Holy shit,” Harry breathed. “That feels surprisingly good.”

“How about I make it feel better?” Draco said, running a finger up the side on Harry’s dick. 

“Enjoy your meal,” Harry said, waving a hand at his groin. Draco dipped his head down to suck at Harry’s head, a moan ripping from Harry’s throat. Draco licked up the stripes of molasses as Harry lay back completely on the worktop. Once Draco was satisfied he had gotten all sweetness off Harry’s dick, he took the whole thing in his mouth, to root. “Fuck!” Harry shouted, hands coming up to grip Draco’s shoulders. Draco began to bob up and down as a string of cruses left Harry’s mouth. When Draco began to hum, they turned to gibberish. 

Without warning, Draco pulled off. “The fuck, Malfoy?” Harry demanded. 

“I think I’ve had enough of that particular dish,” Draco said, reaching for the molasses again. “I’m ready for the next course.” Harry felt the distinct feel swoosh of a cleaning spell, following by a cool and thick substance at his entrance. “The first course was so good, I can hardly wait for this one.” 

“Well, I hope it’s to your liking,” Harry replied, sitting up on his elbows and perching his feet on the work top to give Draco better access. 

Draco leaned forward and swirled his tongue around Harry’s hole and looked up at Harry. “My compliments to the chef,” he said before thrusting his tongue inside causing Harry to groan. Draco worked his tongue in and out of Harry in a steady rhythm, occasionally suckling or teasing the outside while his fingers stretched him until Harry was a whimpering mess. 

“Malfoy, please!” Harry called, his cock painfully hard and leaking. 

Draco pulled away. “Please what?”

“Please just fuck me already, you bastard!” Harry said fiercely. 

“Well seeing as you asked so nicely,” Draco said, finally undoing his own pants. “Do you think you’re ready?”

“Yes, now please just get on with it.”

“You’re rather impatient for someone who just received a blow job and a rimming,” Draco said, pulling Harry towards him by the legs. 

“And you’re rather snarky for someone who’s about to be balls deep in my ass,” Harry replied. 

“Oh, and you think your ass is that great?”

“Oh, I know it is,” Harry replied, wrapping his legs around Draco’s waist.

“Well, allow me to be the judge of that,” Draco said tightening his grip on Harry’s thighs. Harry felt the head of Draco’s cock at his entrance. “Ready?” 

“Do your worst,” Harry said, squeezing his legs. 

Draco leaned forward, kissing Harry as he entered. When he was fully sheathed, they rest their foreheads together, breathing heavy. “Alright?”

“Mmm, yeah, just give me a sec,” Harry whispered. Draco didn’t reply, instead he focussed his attention on Harry’s ear lobe, biting it gently before moving down his neck. “Malfoy,” Harry moaned.

“Don’t you think you can call me Draco, seeing as my cock is currently in your ass,” Draco said between kisses. 

“I could but then you’d have to call me Harry, seeing as your cock is currently in my ass.”

“I can try,” Draco said raising his head to look at Harry. 

“You can move now, Draco.” Kissing him again, Draco pulled out, and began to pump into him steadily. Using his hands as leverage, Harry raised and lowered himself in tandem. Harry found himself dangerously close to orgasm, already, but the steady pace holding him back. “I’m not going to break, Draco,” Harry said when it became too much. 

“How about I bend you over then?” Draco said, voice hushed. “Take you from behind so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”Harry bit Draco's chin lightly. 

Draco pulled out and quickly set Harry down, his hands guiding Harry to bend. Harry didn't need much encouragement and happily rest his elbows on the counter, ass out and waiting. He looked over his shoulder and saw Draco admiring him. "I told you it was a great ass." 

"Do shut up, Harry," Draco said, punctuating the statement with a light slap. 

Harry twisted a bit so he could look Draco in the eye. "Why don't you make me?" Without breaking eye contact, Draco slammed back into Harry, brushing his prostate causing Harry to gasp. 

Draco leaned over and murmured into Harry's ear, "What was that?" Harry could only groan as Draco began thrusting upwards fiercely. He could feel Draco's balls hitting his own with every snap of his hips and the sensation was driving him mad, causing him to push back harshly on to Draco's dick, trying to drive him deeper. 

"You fucking love this, don't you? Bent over and spread out, my cock in you?" Draco reached up and pulled Harry's head back lightly by his hair. "Answer me, Harry." 

"Fuck! Draco that feels so good. I do love it, I do," Harry whimpered. Draco let go of head and returned his hands to Harry's hips. His thrusts only increased in intensity, practically driving Harry across the counter top. When Draco shifted to hit Harry's prostate head on, Harry knew he didn't have long.

As if reading his mind, and maybe he was, Draco reached a hand around and began to stroke Harry with short strong tugs. "Do you know how incredible you feel?" Draco asked as he stroked. "Your ass is so tight and hot." Harry seemed to enjoy Draco talking so he continued. "Watching you so fucking needy for it, so eager to have my cock filling you, fucking you so hard you won't sit for a month without remembering me. Fuck, Harry it's amazing." 

"Oh my god, I'm gonna come!" Harry shouted. Draco began to thrust with abandon now, his strokes on Harry's cock becoming erratic. When Harry came it was with a stifled scream, his ass clenching around Draco, drawing out his orgasm. Draco continued to thrust haphazardly as they both road out their orgasms, before eventually draping himself over Harry's back to catch his breath. 

They stood there, bent over and panting for a long moment, before Draco finally pulled out. He stayed draped over Harry, and turned to kiss his ear and murmured, "What's for dessert?" 


End file.
